Isis

Isis becomes your ghost
then the flesh of your thoughts.
Her images unveil
but just when you love Her
to distraction
She leaves you abstracted.

She is the only woman
you will ever love
with all of yourself.
Not one atom of you
can be withheld from Her
She is jealous of your soul
for it was always her dress.

One day you wake up
not in Her arms
but as a star
deeply set in Her eyes.
You are glad now
to shine
as nakedly as that.

Graphic Art "Isis" Evert A. Robles

www.evertrobles.com/ graphic-008.htm

Seeing She

Looking at paintings-
seeing She.
Looking at trees
their limbs
threaded through the
golden body of my mind-
seeing She.

Taking a long walk
through the archangel
of time related dreams.
She is with me
a valley of life
running through my fingers
as close as my skin
closer.

Looking at closed books
and open flowers.
Seeing where She appears
and hides
to be seen as poems.
As honey hued flames
flickering in dark eyes.
We are all here
seeing She
as She observes

only Herself.

expectations

We expect each other
to show up every day.

First there is the glow;
that little distance of attraction
that a song has from the singer:
A mutual throat for the flow
of Presence.

We are lovers of course.
I want to be in You
but You are expectant,
pregnant with my own soul.
I have to wait
the Mother and child
must dance together
as if they were more a betrothal
than a birth.

My heart crashes into Your love
We meet in my demise
where You expect me
to rise like the dawn-
to become the pulse
of Your throat

your eyes.

She Slips In & Out

She slips in and out it seems.
At night, when rivers
turn inwards to their source
Her fluid mouth
opens within me.
I am born
like a droplet of water
in a torrent of light.
Somewhere deeper
than this worlds womb
I alter like a wave
that slips in and out
of itself to be more.
Awake or sleep
the whole length of my life
is a river
carving Her image.

evenings are your robes

Between the veils
of day and night
A Jasmine kiss
of dusk
or the bruised mouth
of sleepless nights.
You come.

Your white legs
and sable body.
My hands, moths
for the stars,
portals of pleasure
and oblivion
beg You
with their dream movements
their prayers thick
with sensation.

You come.
You pull together
the light show,
the dark projections
the glimmer of transcendence.
My body is lit
as you cover me
with a lust
to be my unseen love.

Lithogragh: "Midnight" R C Goreman (c)

what becomes of us

There are no formalities
when I become You
and Your hands become mine.

Love letters and prayers
dissolve into tears
then there is no one
here to cry.

There is an opening,
an entering.
The sky drinks its own clouds.

When You make love to me
I am Your lips.

Shakti

I am a lion
and a lioness under Your paws.
You roar through blood and prayers
an astral firmament of all desire.

I want to take You
but You leap first
and devour last.
You are the bloom
that no one picks
the lover that never leaves
Her consort for another
for You are that "other."

The sound of Your wild songs
shatters flesh
then moulds it into a basket
to carry Your voice
through the world.

bell chime

Bell chimes in the Holy Ghost of now.
Opening windows
in the magic of body and form.

She is within
naked of vestal robes.
There is just a pulse swooning here.

You are Her song
held up to oblivion.

A bell
struck by everything all at once.

Too clear
to be translated into any language.

She is your one note speaking.

you turn me over to be seen

An ocean rocks me,
this movement of my body-prayers
placed between us.
Not as a division
but a frontier
where I can touch the unseen.

Even my mute hands can speak
because You have given them power
to feed my soul.
My limbs brush Your forms
for You have given each nerve
a place to lose its voice in Yours.

Sometimes I take You out
then You bring me in.
Everywhere is Your Heart
so I am never lost.

When I speak
You steal my words
to wet Your tongue.
You take away every right or wrong;
turn me over in this ocean
for the delight of a movement
that is Yours alone.

Image: Oil on Canvas, "The Woman in the Waves"

Gustave Courbet.

Thang-Ka

I find myself listening for You now.
The poems, the letters You write.

It is not hard to see the Buddha
when your ears are open to love
and your eyes see
the tapestry of all forms.

You come to me in waves.
You fill my throat
with words
that make signs in the air.

Now I can look upon
Your Thang-Ka
and worship the deep threads
of Your weaving silence.

one poppy, not many

I am one poppy not many.

My blood blooms in your eyes.

When strong winds

rip you from Myself

I fly like lips to One Love.

You are the rain-

the auburn earth that receives

My delicate presence.

You are the raining universe

of My light.

Sometimes I cannot wait for two.

I shake myself free

of this magnetic dance

just to be a taste

for My own lips.

Yet even then

I am one poppy, not many.

a goddess on a moonless night

You are the Attraction
a Goddess on a moonless night.
Everything gets pulled into You
moths and flames together.
The body gets pulled out of its soul
the soul becomes a moth
its own heart, infinite flame.
We are lifted backwards into
Your future---tenderly
even as we die.
You fly in us, for even the dawn
must have its shadows.
Where there was moonlight
there is only Your gleaming.
You are not dark.
You are a gentle glow of passion
for those in need.

Image: "Goddess on a Moonless Night" (c) Helena Nelson-Reed.

you carry my hands in you

When I am somewhere you are nowhere.

Sometimes I take my hands
and wrap them around Your heart
as if carrying a small bird
back to its nest
but that is just my mind's eye
making images.

My real imagination creates You
just as You create me.

I confessI lift Your skirt for love also.
You address me by being me.
I know you by being you.
That is why I can only love You
in my mirror.

I walk beside You
just to hold Your hand
on the other side of my heart.
You walk within me
just to feel Yourself
speaking these words.









Art Image "laura" By Tara

instrument of light

Your heartbeat has come to stay
like a bird in my nest.

Your rhythm and pulse
have made a home
in my empty cave.

You are an opening door
the impulse
of thresholds and flowers.

You are the scripture of bird song.
I am a tongue
you fashion out of silence.

Your heartbeat
stays like a prayer next to my ribs;
music woven into my body
the way light and shadow
is woven
into an instrument
to make it speak
beyond time and place.

Print: "Goddess of Dawn" (c) Richard Franklin

my body is your spirit

I place Your mask over my eyes
now my face is visible.
Now you are a feature
of Yourself.

Goddess of no words
no appearance
yet every movement and glimpse
of your skirt is life.

My ghost is in Your body,
that body You have
that none may touch
unless their hands are prayers
offered to You.

No one knows You
better than my tears.












Image (c) Joe Woodward.

green girl

You blend and merge
uncover and dress
camouflage and reveal.

We pass through You as Yourself.
We part You with our hands
looking into ourselves.

The Beloved of some, many
a few. Chosen to choose You,
naturally selected to find You.
Pollinated to attract You.
To dance in Your Nature.

Hind, doe, mother
green girl, earth.
You slip through names.

Prey and hunter
fall into Your traps
never guessing
You are the whole chase.
















Painting: "Green Girl" (c) nag-moon rai

she stands within you

Her flowers open in your body
spirals fill your flesh with light.

You want Her like a river wants air.
River music moves you.

You are not swimming any longer
you are sinking upwards
into Her arms.

You are a rock in your own river
the cataract, the sudden fall.

You offer Her
the slow train wreck of your life.

She stands within you
arms raised
waiting for your river
to fall through Her heart.






Painting: "The Presence" (c) Tony Carlton

my blood

You have become my blood
or I have always been Yours.
The distinction is the distance
or intimacy of waves.

You bathe me or I bathe You.
I don't split hairs anymore
I comb Your hair or You
comb mine with the same fingers.

The sea is our blood
my mind Your movement or stillness.

You are my blood.
I don't worship You
I worship the taste
of Your blood in me










Image: "My Blood" by n.m.rai

a honeymoon in deep waters

A honeymoon in deep waters.

The rising.

You are beyond words and ideas.

Too near to be anyone else.

I am not
because You are the nature
of every creature.

You make a bridal chamber
of every heart.

You cannot be found
I can only be replaced
and in that loss
I gain my bride.

The cheetah wears Your scent.
Each flower is Your face,
Your passion.

Beyond words and ideas
but not beyond the poetry
of a speaking soul.

Image: "Goddess Unfurled" by n.m.rai

she will be whatever we want her to be

The Goddess will not let you sleep
she will awaken you with signs of Her purity,
with symbols of Her desire.
Nothing looks like Her
all forms are the flowers
of Her passion to be known.
Saints and sinners
travel eyes down in the world-
one contemplates Her light
the other
the fire She ignites in the flesh.
The Goddess appears
in the disgiuse of our thoughts,
She wears the dress we weave for Her.
When we are simple and naked
She arrives as
a breathless flight of awareness.







Image: "Goddess Torso" by Joe Woodward

her dark and flowering love

We find Her by knowing Her darkness.
She has dark flowers
for She blooms all the light there is.
We name Her,
we set Her upon an alter
carve her forms
into the realms of appearance.
She is a radiance
but so is every soul.
She is female
but so is every soul.
She is loves dark flowering
a valley for creation.
She is our longing to be born
through only Her.
She illumines the darkness
with Her darkness.
A light we feel
as the shapeof the Goddess.







Image: "Goddess" (c) Georgia NeSmith

http://www.cafepress.com/briarrose

A link to a card with this image --

http://www.cafepress.com/briarrose.45479790

she loves me through her body

At night I return to Your body,
in the morning I step out into Your body.
When I am alone I am Your body.
When I am crowded with hectic thought
I am also that starry depth of Your still mind-
Your body of love
that cosmic anatomy that is the flower of Your space.
Your limbs and heart are in correspondence
with my hands, feet and torso.
The only reason my soul weeps
is that it is one dream acre from Your earth
but you are still the meadow I blossom in.
You are still my tenderness and compassion,
my frustration and discomfort, my passion.
You are the thought and its creation.
You do not go anywhere without me.
For this life in Your body, as Your flesh
and perfect expression
I give thanks.








Goddess figure from Tarxien temple

out of her mouth we learn to speak

The Goddess arises from the desert
fertile with green memory.
She carves the hieroglyphs of future souls.
Mixes our dry earth with Her saliva
remodels the ancient myths into figurines of power.
She sculpts idols of Herself
as the Mother and child.
She speaks through Her images
to those who can read their own runes.
She offers palm fronds of presence
the living flower of Her desire.

Asherah: ©copyright by Angela Marie Iannone Edelstein

beauty is her meekness

You curve
because beauty must curl to be seen.

Our hands close
upon the shapes we dream of.

Your loveliness is always inside
a passion to be expressed.

You accept our ineptitude

You offer your sisters up
for adoration and abuse

and make no complaint.

Artwork: "Dancing Spirit Goddess" Lila (c)

She Waits

When you are away from yourself
She stays behind to tend.

When you are a shadow in a dry river
She lays down within you for you to drink.

She makes a home for you to return to
preparing corn and maze
liquor for your lips
a place for your earth to rest.

She waits.








Painting: "Woman from San Juan" R.C. Gorman.

She

She opens you with seeking vowels.
Brings you to Her mansion windows
draws your curtains
squanders your life
to be Her own.
One peony of time
lives on forever
as a thought of you.





Painting: "Quiet Compassion" by Tony Carlton. (c) Carlton Galleries.